Reassurance
by calenlily
Summary: Of insecure questions, misunderstandings, and, ultimately, fluff. Oneshot. F'lar/Lessa.


_Disclaimer_: I'm too tired to think of anything creative. Anne McCaffrey owns Pern, k?  
_A/N_: Not much to say about this one. Just a little scene that popped into my head, set just a little bit after the end of _Dragonflight_. Thanks as always to my beta moviemom44.

**Reassurance**

Lessa looked up as F'lar strode into the queen's weyr. While she was seldom carefree, her current expression was particularly somber, as if she were brooding over something. Still, she greeted him pleasantly enough, setting aside her preoccupations and turning to him as he joined her. Perhaps it was just the weariness of the end of another long day.

Or perhaps not. Who knew?

"What's on your mind, love?" he asked gently.

She smiled slightly. He thought hopefully that it might be because of the endearment, something he had only recently allowed himself to voice.

She hesitated, then began slowly, "Ramoth is going to rise again soon…"

"I know." He rather smirked it. Bronzes could tell often before the queen herself, and he fully shared Mnementh's excitement.

And obviously Lessa did _not_ feel the same, given how she was acting. He could've kicked himself when he realized how his response must have sounded to her. _Fool!_"What about it?" he asked more gently, hoping it wasn't too late to salvage the conversation.

She hesitated even more noticeably, before finally admitting in a barely audible whisper, "I'm scared."

"Oh, Lessa…" he murmured soothingly, taking her in his arms. He knew what it cost her to admit that; she feared appearing vulnerable and her being even this comfortable opening up to him was the product of considerable effort and time.

Also, he should've known. _Sharding wherry-headed fool!_ He knew she'd had issues about Ramoth's first mating flight –indeed, said issues had complicated their relationship for a long while–so it stood to reason that she might be nervous about the second.

"It will be good," F'lar promised her. He was at a loss, wondering desperately how to reassure her.

"I'm trying to believe that," Lessa said weakly. It pierced him to the core to see his typically self-assured weyrmate so distressed. She continued, "I know it's supposed to be good. I'm trying to remember the intensity of passion – I know it was there – but all I can think of is… is roughness and losing control."

F'lar winced, and cursed himself yet again for the thoughtlessness that had tainted that experience for her. "It won't be like that," he assured her again. "I promise you that." He allowed himself a challenging smirk and a touch of arrogance as he added, "And I don't see why losing control should be an issue anymore, unless you're so opposed to the prospect…"

She snorted at that, her demeanor finally lightening a bit. "No, I can't say I am," she admitted.

But then she slipped back into her fey and uncharacteristically insecure mood. "But F'lar, what if it isn't you? What if Mnementh doesn't catch her?" she asked desperately.

Rage surged through him at the very suggestion. How could she even _contemplate_ such a thing? Did she have so little faith in him, in them? Her obvious distaste at the idea was but a small consolation. Even more frustrating, he could think of no tactful way to express that.

However, Mnementh's outraged bugle expressed the sentiment admirably, and without danger of reproach.

Lessa at least had the grace to look chagrined as she realized how her comment had sounded. "Oh! I didn't mean it like… I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I don't doubt you – either of you," she said, addressing herself to both man and dragon. "I just meant…" And here her voice broke, and she dropped back to a half-terrified whisper. "What if?"

"Won't happen," he said flatly. "That's not even a question." He felt somewhat bad for answering so brusquely, but he still felt rather hurt by her lack of confidence, and he wasn't sure he had it in him to be comforting just now. Thankfully, Lessa seemed to be reassured by his brash confidence, and relaxed slightly in his arms.

"How can you be sure?" she pressed, but with less urgency and more simple puzzlement.

He looked into her eyes; she honestly didn't know. Shells, these things ought to be a basic part of a Weyrwoman's education. He kept finding astonishing gaps in her general knowledge and understanding of Weyr life. Whatever _had_ R'gul been teaching her? But damning the older rider wouldn't fix anything now, so F'lar forced himself to set that thought aside for the time being.

"Did it once, can do it again," he said breezily, but then elaborated. "A first flight, all bets are off. But after that, there are other considerations. A previous mating creates a certain bond; most queens are fairly consistent in their choice. And when riders are close, that matters a lot too."

"Oh," she murmured, clearly relieved but not quite sure how to respond to his litany of reasons.

"I am determined not to let anyone else have you," he finished vehemently. He bent to kiss her with a possessive passion. After a moment he added more softly, "You are far too precious to me."

She sighed softly. "I shouldn't have doubted. Forgive my weakness?"

"It's not weakness," he assured her, amazed at how much she still seemed to fear revealing any hint of vulnerability. Would she never understand that she was safe now? "It's only human, love."

He held her tightly to him, savoring the way she leaned into his embrace, the feel of her slight form pressed up against him, never wanting to let her go.

"I love you," she murmured.

"And I love you, dear heart," he replied tenderly, planting kisses over her upturned face.


End file.
